


Because It's Such A Lonely Night

by GutterChurl



Category: Lycaon (Band), Versailles (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Choking, Dildos, Eventual Smut, Gags, Handcuffs, M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 06:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterChurl/pseuds/GutterChurl
Summary: Handsome, modest and noble; Kamijo is the perfect prince. Yuuki, on the other hand, is more akin to a devil. As mismatched as they are, they can’t help but to feel strangely intrigued by each other.





	Because It's Such A Lonely Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampireHydeFTW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireHydeFTW/gifts).



> For VampireHydeFTW. Hopefully, this isn’t too bad! ^_^

Being a prince, Kamijo lives a fairly restrictive lifestyle. Of course, he is allowed privileges that some people wouldn’t even dream of – three-course dinners each night, garments priced at over 300,000 yen and having almost everything handed to him on a silver platter – but he is not allowed the freedom that most people can enjoy without even having to think about it. As a man of nobility, he is expected to convey absolute perfection in his appearance, speech and behaviour, and to take pride in all of it, so it is no surprise that, most days, he finds himself sneaking outside to get away from it all. Today is no different.

 

Kamijo inhales deeply through his nose as he walks through the tranquil forest, taking in the earthy scents around him. He finds it relaxing, being able to escape from his usual surroundings in exchange for peaceful nothingness; just Kamijo and his thoughts. He never ventures far, as his poor sense of direction would never allow him back to the palace before anyone took note of his absence.

What had started as a blue day has now turned to a grey one, gloomy clouds obstructing the light of the sun. Kamijo’s nose crinkles as a small raindrop falls onto it, followed by a gradually increasing number more. Since the day he was born, Kamijo has been taught to keep his appearance in a perpetually immaculate condition, thus has been encouraged to avoid the rain lest it ruin his beautiful blond hair. In no mood to return to the palace, he continues onward through the forest, hoping to find shelter from the rain.

 

Soon enough, Kamijo arrives at a small cabin. While not that impressive, it appears cosy and homely; the perfect place to rest. In fact, Kamijo muses that it could potentially be a more suitable home for him than the grand palace to which he has become accustomed. Curious and in need of a roof over his head before he ends up soaked through his clothes, he opens the wooden door and peers inside. What awaits him is far from what he was expecting.

Reclining on the sofa in the centre of the room is a gorgeous (yet fierce-looking) young man. His hair and lips are a shocking shade of pink, and, as he turns his gaze to the prince, he notices that his eyes are as well. The clothes that hug his slender body – the jacket zipped down to the middle of his torso, the impossibly tiny shorts that may as well not even be there, the sleeves rising to just above his elbows and the thigh-high boots – are all made of seductive black leather.

“Who are you?” he asks in a less-than-inviting tone, fingering one of his silver chandelier earrings.

“My name is Kamijo. I –“ begins Kamijo, bowing courteously before being cut off by his host.

“Well, you’re intruding. Now, get out,” spits the man, storming up to Kamijo. His boots make a loud sound as he moves, making him feel very authoritative indeed. Perhaps if he were taller and more threatening than simply rude, Kamijo would feel intimidated. Nevertheless, the prince sees it as his duty to be the gentleman in this situation.

“I… yes, sir,” responds Kamijo calmly, hearing the other man scoff and slam the door behind him as he turns away.

 

As unpleasant as the pink-haired man was to him, Kamijo can’t seem to purge him from his thoughts as he tries to get to sleep at night. Yes, he had the manners of a sewer rat, but he was undeniably attractive. Enchanting, even. By no means nice, but certainly enchanting.

After slipping into one of his luxuriant cotton nightgowns and climbing into bed, Kamijo stares at the door, vigilantly listening out for anyone who may wish to disturb him. Once he is certain that he has the rest of the night to himself, he touches his crotch, feeling his length harden through his nightgown. As a child, Kamijo’s prudent parents would often try to lecture him into avoiding such indulgences, as if they were god and goddess and their son was nothing more than a subservient follower, but the prince has never seen any sense in their words. He is allowed the finest food and the most wondrous clothes as a staple of everyday life, but he is not allowed sexual release? Such a rule is simply absurd in Kamijo’s eyes.

The image of the pink-haired man remains in his mind as he lifts his nightgown up to his hips and strokes his shaft. Kamijo finds it almost destabilising to think how such a horrid brat can hold so much power and manipulation over someone with nothing more than their physical appearance, but he continues to rub himself nonetheless. He builds up a steady rhythm as he pictures the most delicious parts of the other man; his luscious pink hair, his gorgeous lips, but most of all, his creamy thighs. As improper as it may seem for a man of royal lineage, Kamijo can’t resist fantasising about the things he would do to the man. He wants to touch him, squeeze him… defile him. This pink-haired man certainly is powerful, seeming to remotely control Kamijo, so it is no surprise that, within no more than three minutes, the prince has found his release.

 

The following morning, Kamijo sits at the gilded table in the spacious dining room soon before a large plate of pork and salad is placed before him by one of the servants, along with a goblet of richly decadent grape juice that seems somewhat unnecessary for a morning meal. Still, he doesn’t complain. Next to him sits Yumeno, the court jester. He seems a little out-of-place amongst the royal family, as he does not have their angelic blond hair, icy blue eyes or near-perfect etiquette, however that has not stopped him from befriending the prince. Yumeno’s large, indigo eyes are completely transfixed by Kamijo’s sizeable breakfast, even as his own meal is placed in front of him with a simple glass of water. Taking no notice of the jester, Kamijo begins to eat.

“Yumeno, don’t you know that it’s rude to watch people eat?” chides the King firmly, defending his golden son. All eyes dart to Yumeno, causing him to feel a little uneasy.

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I was just daydreaming,” replies Yumeno absent-mindedly. Almost instantly after speaking, he spears a small potato with his fork and quickly pops it into his mouth.

“That’s all you ever seem to do,” remarks the Queen. Yumeno only just manages to hold back an exasperated sigh, knowing all too well that he would be scolded for insolence if he didn’t. Like many of the servants and other people of lower ranking in the palace, he has been told not to “exhale the devil’s breath” far more times than he would like. During breakfast, Kamijo stays completely silent, not wanting to involve himself in the frequent arguments between his parents and his jester friend.

 

After breakfast, Kamijo slips out of the palace unnoticed, feeling a sense of accomplishment as he makes it to the cabin with no soldiers following him to bring him back home. A small part of Kamijo wants to stay in the palace, reading or playing card games with Yumeno, but a much larger part of him is sinfully tempted by that pink-haired devil.

Breathing deeply to calm his nerves, Kamijo knocks on the cabin door; loud enough for the other man to hear, but not so loud that it would startle him. A few seconds later, the door is unlocked and opened by none other than the pink-haired man.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says in a less unpleasant tone than expected. His facial expression is neutral, but his deep fuchsia eyes seem to light up slightly at the sight of the prince.

“Good day to you, sir. I –“ begins Kamijo, bowing with practised dignity before he is interrupted.

“Kamijo, right?” asks the man, putting his hand on his hip and pointing at the prince. “That’s what you said your name was?”

“I… yes,” answers Kamijo, his modest nature making him struggle to keep up with the other’s directness.

“Hmm…” hums the man analytically, his eyes observantly creeping from Kamijo’s head to his toes before making their way back up to his face. “…okay, you can come in.”

 

“Take a seat,” offers the man as he struts into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for his guest.

“Thank you,” replies Kamijo, sitting down on the sofa.

“I’m Yuuki, by the way,” states the man, returning to the lounge with a glass of water which he hands to Kamijo.

“Thank you,” repeats Kamijo, satisfied not only by the fact that he finally has a name to put to Yuuki’s face, but also by the fact that Yuuki is not being quite so rude today. A little cold, perhaps – colder than a lot of people are, anyway – but not nearly as belligerent as before.

“So, tell me about yourself,” prompts Yuuki, sitting down beside Kamijo.

“What would you like to know?” asks Kamijo.

“I dunno,” answers Yuuki, shrugging his shoulders. “Like, what do you do?”

“I am the prince, next in line to the throne,” replies Kamijo. Despite the admission of his more-than-respectable title, his tone is just as humble as ever.

Yuuki laughs in disbelief, folding his arms and crossing his legs. “No, really, what do you do?”

“I am the prince. That is the truth,” answers Kamijo sincerely.

“You can’t fool me, pretty boy,” states Yuuki stubbornly, showing a bitter frown which soon curls into a sly smile as he notices the other man’s cheeks reddening at the name he has been called. “Just ‘cause you dress nice and you call me ‘sir’, you think I’ll fall for your tricks? I’m not as stupid as I might look. If you’re the prince, then how come I’ve never heard of you?”

“Might it be because you live in a cabin in the middle of the forest? If you don’t mind me asking, why do you live here?” questions Kamijo. As much as he adores his privacy, he fails to understand how anyone could endure this level of solitude for so long; especially someone so young. “It must be awfully lonely.”

“It is, that’s why I like it. I don’t like people…” answers Yuuki, the devious smirk playing on his lips slowly growing wider. “…unless, of course, they have… something to offer me.”

“And what might that be?” asks Kamijo, curious. The more time he spends around Yuuki, the less he seems to know about him; a growing enigma.

Yuuki laughs like a child; maybe a happy, giddy child, or perhaps a twisted, evil child. The only determinate characteristics of that laugh are its childishness, and the lilt of excitement lining it. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

 

Yuuki eagerly leads Kamijo to his bedroom. The prince feels a mixture of intrigue and apprehension as he follows the other man, and, as the door is opened, his feelings of doubt are confirmed.

The bedroom would probably be a rather pleasant room to sleep in, if it weren’t for all of the instruments of sexual fetishism and torture. Whips and chains lie on the floor as if they are toys a child forgot to tidy away after playing with. A ball gag sits on the pillow of the bed, placed with probable intent where someone’s mouth would be if their head rested on the pillow. Secured around each of the tall bed posts is a pair of handcuffs, and arranged from left to right in ascending height order is an assortment of five dildos. The first one is rather thin and can’t be any longer than a measly four inches – it must be more for teasing than pleasure – however the last one appears to be almost an entire foot in length. Failing to find a more appropriate way to react, Kamijo darts away in fear.

“Kamijo! Come back!” shouts Yuuki, quickly following his guest to the front door. By the time he reaches it, the prince has already left the cabin and is on his way back to the palace, where, for once, he feels he belongs. Sighing in disappointment, Yuuki returns to the lounge.

“He’ll be back,” Yuuki mutters to himself, sitting down on the sofa.

 

After a grandiose three-course dinner consisting of lobster, turkey, gâteau au chocolat and the most delicious red wine imaginable, Kamijo sits in his room with Yumeno. The jester holds a deck of cards, complete with his personal favourites, the jokers.

“It’s easy,” states Yumeno, expertly shuffling the cards with his pale hand. “All you have to do is try to get rid of all your cards.”

“And you have to lie about it?” asks Kamijo, mesmerised by the speed at which his friend flips the cards between each other.

“That’s the point. Here, I’ll show ya,” answers Yumeno with a crafty wink. Without so much as casting a sideways glance at the cards, he flicks the two jokers out of the deck with his thumb, and he doesn’t look at them as they land by his side, one perfectly on top of the other. “Let’s say I drew two Jacks from my deck.” Yumeno takes the Jack of Hearts and the Jack of Diamonds from the deck and holds them up for Kamijo to see. “But actually…” Yumeno slowly turns the cards around, then quickly turns them the other way again to reveal that the Jack of Diamonds has turned into the Ace of Spades. “…I have a Jack and an Ace. I lay them face-down so you can’t see them. I tell you they’re two Jacks, and you’ve got to work out if I’m lying. If you say I am and you’re correct, then I have to pick up all the cards we’ve laid down.” Yumeno smirks slyly and turns the cards to face him again. “But if you’re wrong…” Yumeno flips the cards around, and Kamijo is amazed to see that the Ace of Spades has turned back into the Jack of Diamonds. “…then you have to, not me.”

“But… how do I tell if you’re lying?” asks Kamijo. Despite his intelligence, it has never been in his nature to tell a lie, so the thought of playing a game based on doing exactly that is an alien concept.

“Oh, I don’t know!” snaps Yumeno, shocking the prince as he slams the cards down on his thighs with a dramatic thwack.

“Yumeno, calm down,” advises Kamijo in a soft voice. Yumeno has always been known to change moods in the blink of an eye, so it doesn’t surprise Kamijo as much as it probably should; besides, his mood swings are almost never without reason. With eyes conveying kindness and concern, Kamijo rests a supportive hand on the other man’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

The jester lets out a heavy sigh. “I have to leave for a while to visit my sick friend. Well, I say ‘friend’; he’s really just a snobby army captain. He works for the same palace I used to, and the prince of that palace is insistent that I visit him. Neither of them were very nice. I think he thinks I like that captain.” Yumeno lets out another sigh, although this time, it is lighter and carries less tension, as if speaking was all he needed to do to feel better. His dark blue eyes gaze sadly at the joker cards beside him. “I… didn’t tell you sooner because I thought I could wriggle out of this.”

“Yumeno, there’s no need to feel guilty,” assures Kamijo, gently squeezing Yumeno’s shoulder. “When do you need to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” answers Yumeno glumly.

“Oh,” whispers Kamijo, not knowing what else to say.

 

The day that follows is a lonely one from morning to night without Yumeno. The mealtimes are quiet and the palace lacks the jovial atmosphere the jester usually brings. Kamijo almost misses the petty quarrels between his parents and Yumeno, purely because the lack of them is a reminder that his friend is not there with him.

The seat Yumeno normally sits in at the dinner table is occupied by a soldier. Kamijo doesn’t recall having any prior interactions with this soldier; in fact, he doesn’t even know his name. He is unremarkable in appearance, with light brown hair, eyes of the same colour and a plain face dotted here and there with small moles. Unlike Yumeno, the soldier is quiet and doesn’t do anything that may stand out or cause the King and Queen to make a comment.

“Kamijo? You’re quiet,” states the King, studying his son as he cuts his chicken.

“Am I? I do apologise,” replies Kamijo in a tone that could be interpreted as either genuine or sarcastic.

The King is confused for a moment, but soon shrugs off Kamijo’s remark and continues eating his dinner.

 

Yuuki stands in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at his own reflection with such admiration that he may as well be gazing at another man. He is beautiful, seductive and he lingers in people’s minds like a guilty conscience, and he knows it. It has been another day of looking gorgeous, but now, the moon and the stars are high and bright, and the pride of having perfect hair, makeup and clothing must come to an end. Giving his reflection one last look and slowly running his tongue along his top lip, Yuuki begins to remove one of his earrings. Then, he hears a faint knock on the front door. Eyes lighting up with glee, Yuuki darts downstairs to greet his guest, who is none other than Kamijo.

“Kamijo! I knew you’d be back,” purrs Yuuki as he allows the prince into his home.

“You did?” questions Kamijo.

“Oh, yeah. I knew,” answers Yuuki, shutting the front door and blocking out the chill of the night-time air. “But why _are_ you back? Somehow, I knew you would come, but why did you?”

“Because… I feel lonely, Yuuki. My best friend had to leave for a while, and I –“ begins Kamijo before he is silenced by Yuuki’s finger on his lips.

“Shh. I know what’ll make you feel better.”

 

Taking Kamijo’s hand, Yuuki hurries up the stairs and pulls the prince into his bedroom, pushing his back against the door to close it. Neither of them hesitate nor question their actions as Yuuki eagerly presses his soft, pink lips against Kamijo’s, the two of them lost in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. They both have their motives; Kamijo is lonely, Yuuki is simply insatiable. They both know this, and it’s enough reason for them to slip their tongues into each other’s mouths. Yuuki squeezes Kamijo’s waist, eliciting a soft moan.

“Am I your first?” asks Yuuki after finally pulling his lips away from Kamijo’s.

“Yes,” answers Kamijo.

“Well, you’re a damn good kisser for someone who’s never done this sort of thing before,” comments Yuuki as he begins to unbutton Kamijo’s shirt. Once it is removed, Yuuki tosses it carelessly onto the floor, where it is soon joined by Kamijo’s trousers, shoes and underwear.

Yuuki pushes Kamijo onto the bed, admiring his toned yet lean body and taking in all the details of his appearance from head to toe. He leans down and hold Kamijo’s wrist, slowly rubbing circles over the flesh with his thumb. He kisses Kamijo, more softly than before. Kamijo flinches and tenses slightly as he hears a metallic click behind him, and it isn’t until he tries to move his arm to touch Yuuki that he realises he is being handcuffed to the bed. The innocent touches to his wrist and the tender kissing were merely distractions from Yuuki’s dark intentions.

“Yuuki?” questions Kamijo as his other wrist is restrained.

“Don’t worry, Kamijo. You’ll be okay if you just relax,” assures Yuuki as he walks to the other end of the bed and restrains Kamijo’s ankles, stripping him almost completely of movement. Kamijo pulls gently against the forces tying him to the bedposts, adjusting to the sensation. He doesn’t get a lot of freedom – except for when he sneaks out of the palace unnoticed – but this sense of imprisonment is on a more physical level, and feels bizarre in its unfamiliarity. The strange sensation is only intensified when Yuuki reaches behind Kamijo’s head to retrieve a ball gag before promptly silencing him with it. Lying still on the bed, Kamijo watches Yuuki bend down to pick up a long metal chain from the floor. It seems that, for almost every menacing action Yuuki performs, he always has a devilish method of masking it; in this case, allowing Kamijo to gaze at his shapely posterior as he bends down. When Yuuki returns to the prince, he proudly admires him for a moment like a shiny new trophy, then carefully drapes the chain around Kamijo’s neck.

“Mmf,” mumbles Kamijo around the ball gag. He nibbles at it slightly, finding that it is denser than he expected.

“Shush, Kamijo,” orders Yuuki, lifting a black leather whip off the floor. He looks so right with it; like he was meant to hold it. “If you moan too loudly, I’ll pull on the chain and choke you. Got that?”

Kamijo silently nods his head. Although he is unsure about this, he wouldn’t dare answer with anything else for fear of being hurt. Much like his own lack of freedom, Yuuki’s power is now on a more physical level too, so he decides to obey the other’s commands.

Yuuki flaps his wrist a little by his side, causing the whip to wave gracefully in his hand. Again, it provides a comforting distraction for Kamijo until the whip is forcefully smacked against his chest with a loud crack. The harsh sound is accompanied by a pained shout.

“Hey!” snaps Yuuki, grabbing one end of the chain. He waves it in the same way he did the whip, as a reminder that he is in charge, and will be for the rest of the night. As he shakes it, it rattles in a way that makes Kamijo’s face itch.

Yuuki strikes Kamijo again, gradually increasing the damage, leaving soft pink marks on his chest that become darker and more permanent with every lash; yet another reminder of Yuuki’s dominance. How could such a pretty face belong to such a wicked soul?

Not wanting to drive the other man into actual terror, Yuuki lets the whip fall to the floor and slowly walks to his chest-of-drawers, examining the dildos carefully lined up on top of it. He eyes each one with intent before quickly deciding that the largest of the five will be his weapon of choice for tonight. It isn’t his favourite to use on himself - personally, he prefers the medium-sized toy, as it is large enough to feel pleasurable but not so large that he won’t remain tight by the end of a session with it - but he adores seeing how other men react to it.

He starts by teasing Kamijo’s virginal entrance, rubbing the end of his finger over it in circles. He smirks upon seeing the other’s cock twitch in arousal. He then brings his finger to his pink lips, taking in the scent before lubing it up with his saliva and pushing it into Kamijo. The prince’s breath hitches upon being entered, and again when the pale finger is suddenly withdrawn. Sucking his finger, Yuuki reaches for the tube of lube on the bedside table and slicks up the monstrous dildo. Kamijo’s eyes widen when he sees it; was one finger for a few seconds the only preparation he would receive for that? He doesn’t want to think of it as a toy; a toy is meant to be played with, whereas the dildo looks better suited for beating someone with.

“Okay, Kamijo, now relax. Like, _really_ relax,” instructs Yuuki firmly, pressing the head of the dildo against Kamijo’s hole. It requires some force, but it soon slithers inside Kamijo, eliciting a strange moan from him. It sounds pleasured yet awkward, his voice breaking. Yuuki pushes the dildo in at a steady speed until the firm base is pressed against Kamijo’s soft buttocks.

“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself, admiring how wide he has stretched the other man.

“Uu-i?” asks Kamijo, attempting to say the other’s name around the gag in his mouth.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Yuuki says with an amused chuckle. This is what gets him off the hardest; destroying people, turning once-powerful men into objects of desire and making them feel the same desire towards him in return.

Feeling kind for a moment, Yuuki delicately brushes his fingertips against Kamijo’s length, causing it to twitch in excitement. Despite having felt apprehensive to begin with, Kamijo enjoys this fleeting moment of affection. Moaning quietly, he shuts his eyes, opening them again when he realises he doesn’t want to take his eyes off Yuuki for a second. He watches lustfully as Yuuki slowly strokes him, occasionally sticking his long tongue out to tease the slit. Kamijo’s stomach jumps and jitters when Yuuki skillfully licks him, begging for more.

“You want more?” asks Yuuki, as if reading Kamijo’s mind. He nods his head quickly, and Yuuki responds by lubing up the other man’s penis, coating it from base to tip in the thick substance. He then pulls his tiny leather shorts down to his knees and straddles Kamijo’s lap, allowing the prince to gaze upon his smooth, erect cock. Yuuki lines the head of Kamijo’s length up with his hole, grasping the ends of the chain around the prince’s neck.

“Remember, pretty boy; just because you’re gonna be inside me, that doesn’t mean I won’t be rough, you got that?” asks Yuuki in a harsh tone, his facial expression stern. Once again, as it is the only response Kamijo feels comfortable giving in this situation, he nods his head.

Yuuki lowers himself onto Kamijo, moaning euphorically. He makes no effort to bite back his sounds of pleasure, as if taunting Kamijo, tugging lightly at the chain to make his point clearer, however it doesn’t seem to be working, as Kamijo thoughtlessly allows a moan to escape. Growling, Yuuki pulls on both ends of the chain, strangling Kamijo. He doesn’t do this for any reason other than he wants to, and he likes to be in charge. Whatever the means, Yuuki likes to dominate, and the most beautiful thing to him is when he can utterly control someone and still be penetrated. He adores the feeling of being entered, but would never allow himself to become submissive. All of Kamijo’s feelings - his pain, his pleasure, his lust and his fear - belong to Yuuki, and they will long after the night ends.

Yuuki gradually increases his pace, moving faster around Kamijo, his moans becoming louder and more passionate. Kamijo’s hole twitches and spasms around the dildo inside him, increasing the intensity. The air around them soon grows heavy and humid with the scent of sweat, their bodies crying for more. Yuuki speeds up his movements and lowers the ends of the chain to Kamijo’s chest, loosening his grip. Kamijo moans again, foolishly falling into Yuuki’s trap; dropping the chain was merely a ploy to trick Kamijo into thinking Yuuki’s dominant side had gone slack. The chain is tightened again, harder than before, Yuuki’s hands shaking slightly with effort. When he eventually stops choking the other, Kamijo breathes rapidly through his nose, struggling to catch his breath as he nears his orgasm.

Just to be even more cruel, Yuuki moans even louder and higher in pitch. Kamijo makes an unusual grunting sound - similar to a door creaking - as he just manages to hold back his groans of ecstasy.

“Uh, yeah… Kamijo…” moans Yuuki, making the other even more desperate to say something back. If it weren’t for the gag in his mouth, he probably would, even if it meant he was choked again. He feels the urge to let Yuuki know just how much he loves this.

Unable to control himself, Kamijo moans louder than he thought he ever would, his toes curling and his entire body tingling as he ejaculates inside Yuuki. As he did before, Yuuki strangles the prince, and somehow, it seems to make his orgasm feel all the more electric. He can feel it in his face; something he would have doubted was even possible before this night.

Even as the feeling of his orgasm dies down, Kamijo bucks his hips upwards, impaling Yuuki further. Yuuki’s moans now feel genuine, and not just fuelled by his selfish desire to tease the prince. The cock inside him repeatedly thrusts against his sensitive prostate, causing him to squirt precum on Kamijo’s pale chest. His eyes grow heavy with lust as the thrusts become harder and faster.

“Oh, Kamijo… I’m… I’m gonna cum…” stammers Yuuki before climaxing, his cum shooting onto Kamijo’s neck. This orgasm is unlike any he has experienced before; for the first time in his life, he feels that someone was actually able to give him pleasure, instead of him simply having to take it from them with their consent.

As for Kamijo, even though the night has been wild, a little painful and unusual to say the least, he doesn’t regret a single thing. If it meant he could feel wanted for just __one__  more night, he would do it all again.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who are interested, the card game Yumeno was showing Kamijo is called "Bullshit", also known as "Cheat". If you believed the other person was lying and you wanted to call them out on it, you would say either "bullshit" or "cheat" and they would have to reveal the last card(s) they laid down. Of course, in a normal game, you wouldn't be able to change the cards just by turning them around!


End file.
